11 Fatal Attraction
Cassadrei's POV
I woke up with a jolt amidst a pool of sweat. The bedside alarm clock ticked 4:00 AM, it was still a long way to go till the morning. I had the same nightmare that has been haunting me since the day I saved the wolf cub... becoming more vivid as the days passed. I got up and sat, reclining against my bedpost, rubbing my eyes to shake off the residual dream. I didn't have much sleep for the last couple of days. An effort to go back to sleep would be vain, I know this from prior experience...so the only prudent thing would be to practice my magic.
I sat up straight, concentrated hard and tried to levitate the objects around my shabbily ornamented room. The magical powers are slowly coming back to me, but they aren't as strong as they are in the presence of Michael. This distressed me greatly, but I suppose it's better than having nothing at all.
My concentration deviated at the very thought of Michael, causing the metal vase to crash on the floor with a resounding clang. I levitated it back to it's resting position on the desk and lay down, trying to catch the elusive sleep. Instead, I started remembering the day I had met The Other One. Magnus.
Magnus with his electric blue eyes, his piercing gaze that penetrated my very core, his ebony skin blazing in the bright sun, his ruffled black hair drawn back into a ponytail, his curled lips sneering at the soldiers as they held their swords wrongly….
No, I thought... I couldn't allow myself to immerse into his memories once more. It has taken me eight long years to finally stop thinking about him, and now I can't go through all that again. The problem was that Michael reminded me so much of him, their creepy similarities made me remember his features even more. I tried to shrug off those memories but they returned time and again, each time stronger than the last.
It was the season of Festivals when I had first met him. I was sixteen, the prime of my youth, bubbling with raucous energy and enthusiasm about anything and everything. Especially men. I should have understood then,too much energy and too little caution can cause catastrophe. My mother had held a grand ceremony to honour the farmers for their bountiful produce. The festivals marked the beginning of the harvest season, one that was sacred to the Goblins because food and fodder were the only things untouched by our magic. Mother had invited people from all over the country and beyond that, it was indeed a gala affair that year. I distinctly remember seeing my father in the court too, a rare event where he had prioritised his country over his much valued solitude and books. Mother sat at her High Throne, radiant in a magenta gown with her sword firmly in the buckle, the buckle was specially created for the gown because it would not be honourable for a Queen to sit without her sword.
I was sitting coyly beside my mother, in my pastel pink gown…taking in the surroundings and nodding with a smile at every other guest. My mother had specially invited people, which means that this was an event to be taken very seriously. I also hoped to meet a few handsome princes, hoping for a dance event with them. Oh how naive I was!
I distinctly remember the drumrolls that preceded his arrival. For me, that precise moment was like a warning bell, preparing me for what was ahead. The soldiers had come forward and murmured something into my Mother's ears. Her grin disappeared, replaced by a stern gaze which I was so familiar with... I wondered what has brought forth such a sudden change in her constitution, that too on the day of the Festivals. My mother was never upset during the Festivals, it was where she had first met my Father and even though their love story was obscure and a matter of rampant debate among the countrymen, it was undeniable that even after so many years they were still deeply in love with each other. I really wished to emulate their amorous relationship.
My mother passed on the news to other courtsmen and magis, and eventually an uproar arose, disturbing the existing tranquility of the court. The magis looked affronted, Sofosys looked mildly amused and there was a torrent of conversations going around. The news reached me via my maid, Taena who whispered excitedly in my ears. Our Arch Enemy, The Arphoelians have come.
Every year, the holy Festival of Harvest brought with it a chance to associate with our Enemy Kingdom. Arphoelus and Mafhaelore have been at war since forever, and not much has been done to formulate a peace treaty between the two Kingdoms. Every festive season, on every alternate year... representatives from each Kingdom visited the other with goodwill messages and peace treaties, all of which are eventually discarded. However, tradition dictates that an effort should be made each year, so here they are trying to uphold the age old custom. I knew very well what my Mother thought of these customs and had it been in her hands, she would have uprooted them years ago. But, there are limits to a Queen's jurisdiction too, so she is compelled to make peace with her inner rebel.
It was the first time I had been allowed in the court on a festival day, as sixteen marked my official entry into the throes of Adulthood. I couldn't suppress my interest that I would be able to see an actual Arphoelian. I had never been allowed beyond the gates of Mafhaelore, being the crown Princess has it's many demerits I suppose. Another one of those foolish customs, given my mother was quite insistent on me having a normal upbringing.
The harness of the Horse resounded through the court and echoed off the walls. I heard hooves and a deathly stillness fell, making me supremely uncomfortable. My mother's lips were pursed into a thin line as she gazed with concentration at the open door. They had come. A group of Twelve Soldiers were ushered in, led by a band that performed eloquent sword dancing. None of us clapped, and I flinched in my seat in growing restlessness. The soldiers dispersed, taking various corners and forming a circle. Then he came, riding gallantly on a Black Stallion, his slick black hairs tied in a ponytail and his face a facade of unspoken words. The silence was palpable now.
"Your Majesty!" He bowed regally, "I am Magnus Ophyn Arphoelus The Second, Commander of the Moonlight Army, member of the Group of advisors of the Honourable King Adynoeus. May he live long." The Arphoelian Soldiers chanted " May he live long."
My mother flinched. Her jaw was clenched and the lines on her face were clearly visible now. I was staring at Magnus with wide eyes, he returned my look with an amused smile and I could feel a soaring heat rushing through my body, threatening to consume me whole. Blood rushed through my body and bubbled in my ears, my throat felt perched and I had to look away lest I passed out.
"What are your terms? Let's end this farce quickly, shall we?" My Mother roared.
Magnus smiled that ethereal smile. Then he said, "We propose to do things differently this year, Your Majesty. We are aware of your strong aversion towards our age old customs, and how little effect our usual treaty brings us. So allow me to bring forth a new proposal."
My Mother shifted in her High Throne. She was skeptical and said, "Okay, let's hear."
"We, Arphoelians, wish to attend your Festival of Harvest in person. There will be The King and the Royal Family along with other important delegates of our Kingdom. This visit will further strengthen our Political relations and put an end to our age old rivalry."
His proposal was met with an audible gasp from the court. I could hardly believe my own ears. Arphoelus and Mafhaelore celebrating a Festival together was unprecedented. I didn't dare to look at my Mother's face, I could only admire the Young General's audacity as he spoke these words without a stutter in front of a full Mafhaelorian court. I had heard tales of his bravery, cunning and ambition before. Magnus The Second was the youngest Commander of the Moonlight Army, an able soldier and a perfect swordsman. His rise to Commandership at such a tender age was met with no surprise and opposition and apparently he was greatly loved among the Arphoelian common folks, mostly the women who went dewy-eyed in his presence.
I could feel an intense attraction towards him contrary to anything I hadfelt before. I wonder sometimes now, if that was the premonition of an euphoric destruction.
